Welcome to Survival of the Fittest, a RPing board loosely based off of Koshun Takami's Battle Royale, with its own unique plot and spin on the 'deadly game'. We've been around quite a while, and are now in our thirteenth year, so don't worry about us going anywhere any time soon!

If you're a newcomer and interested in joining, then please make sure you check out the rules. You may also want to read the FAQ, introduce yourself and stop by the chat to meet some of our members. If you're still not quite sure where to start, then we have a great New Member's Guide with a lot of useful information about getting going. Don't hesitate to PM a member of staff (they have purple usernames) if you have any questions about SOTF and how to get started!

((This is a DZ, and Quincy's still in adoption limbo, so he's getting yanked into elsewhere-land so as not to explode))

Quincy pulled himself to his feet. They were gone. The tackle had stung, but not as badly as everything else that had occurred here. He had no idea what had come over 'licia, but he had to find out. Something was wrong with everything. He snatched up his gun again. There were people here. They had been with 'licia before. Maybe they'd done something to her. Maybe they knew what was wrong.

He'd have answers.

Most of them had left, but it sounded like one boy was still there, rooting around. Quincy headed that way. He was pretty sure he could take any of these guys in a fight. It had been a lucky blow that dropped him earlier, a lucky shot when he hadn't been expecting a physical assault. He wouldn't get careless again.

Something clattered near him, and he dived behind a stack of crates, banging his knee slightly. It didn't matter. If that was a grenade, he'd need all the cover he could get, though he'd be lucky if the explosion didn't push the pile of boxes over onto him.

He waited one long second.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Nothing.

Peeking out, he saw it was nothing more than a piece of scrap metal. The other boy had escaped. Quincy let out a growl of frustration, then headed for the door. Maybe he'd still be able to find them. Maybe he'd see them running off and be able to catch up. He needed some answers.